Harmony of Past and Present

In Foster Care Aug '84

My Adoptee Journey Destination: Wholeness

Most of my life, I thought that the only way I could be "okay" with life was if I could rewrite it. The static nature of my past was all to disheartening and condemning to me. It was easier to stop looking back. But then, life kept repeating itself. The past I was avoiding kept on appearing in my present.

It wasn't until I embraced God's call to repent of my ways, that I could look at my past and improve myself. God told me it doesn't matter where I came from (time/history perspective) but where I am now, in contrast. But ultimately, my destiny as a Believer is Heaven. Heaven is the antithesis of my previous life before I became "born again."

My first birth was less than dignified. Without holding on to blame, I can only understand it as the convergence of dismal circumstances with the culture in which I was born. But, my God given desires have always pointed me back to my family of origin. (Not to the exclusivity of my adoptive family, but to have a comfortable duplicity in my life.) 

I know God was trying to orchestrate something big in my life. He juggled the circumstances along with my sometimes unthinkable actions. But that matrix of his Loving Hand and my limited wisdom has brought me to a time where, I have total confidence in what he has in store for me, for my family and for the world. 

Fierce Love

Man's Greatest Fear: 

to love and not be loved back

Equal Opportunity Pain

I no longer think that abandonment is an orphaned person's plight.

But, now I see that there is an epidemic of abandonment.

According2Meredith.blogspot.com

 Children abandoned by one parent

There are generations of people who were abandoned by one of their parents due to divorce and remarriage. In olden days, blended families were not as common. In other cultures, blended families are unheard of and many parents have severed their relationships with children from previous marriages. Abandonment of one parent is as painful as abandonment from both.

Children of Divorces with Sole Custody

Some individuals have court ordered parental abandonment. This is many times in the best interest of the child. But the circumstances are not understood or internalized in a healthy way by a lot of children. Then again, could any child be able to negotiate how it is better not to see a parent?
 

Children Living with Emotional Abandonment

I think that one of the most painful experience in life is to be with someone but to be denied relational gratification. It is not healthy for parents to look at their children "person needs" (emotional needs) as nuisances. If parents don't give their children the affirmation, they will seek it in less healthy places. 

Children Living with Parents Enmeshed with Addictions 

Usually addictions take center stage. That is why they are often unhealthy, especially at the expense of a developing and valuable child (all of them). Sadly, the children will seek marriage partners that treat them the same way in adulthood. I just wonder if the alcoholic parent hopes the child will marry another alcoholic person.

IDENTITY I.C.K.

Irish?    <+>   Czechoslovakian?   <+>  Korean? 

 I was doing this project on the profile of adolescence for my Human Services Human Systems and Development class. And I couldn't help but consider myself in how I compared to the rest of teenagers of the past...

So I hope you see that I got the concept "Identity I.C.K." from Irish, Czechoslovakian and Korean. It is so apropos because I did feel much "ick" from my adolescent phase in life. The identity part just about did me in. It was hard enough being an early bloomer and Asian gal with a "rack." 

GUEST POST: Living with a History of Adoption

I recently seized the opportunity to submit a blog post on my experience of being adopted. A fellow blogger was so gracious to suggest to me this guest post opportunity with Anglia Counselling in England. I've also been able to meet a fellow blogger who I took forever to realize lives in my town! My husband has been so supportive lately of my blogging venture that he even offered to watch our three kids so I could have more time to fit in this labor of love!

I hope all of my efforts, although amateur, are shining through to you, my lovely reader. It's a thrill to grasp that hundreds of you are spend some of your precious minutes on my blog. Many thanks. I am doing my best to catch up with my comments. Please know that I'm also visiting your internet "domain" in the meantime. Like my business card says, I want to show you my appreciation by featuring you on my blog wherever I can. 

As I mentioned before, I have a guest blogging opportunity open to anyone who wants to blog about giving or receiving blessings and good karma. For more details, contact me at merejasmin@gmail.com Thank you for stopping by! Blessings to you~

Living with a History of Adoption

#TheSundayPost

REFLECT ON CATT

PART 1 | PART 2

There are some people you meet that you can never forget.

I don't want you to forget Catt. What ever stirred inside your mind and your heart as you read her story, sit with that a while. Let that feeling help shape and soften you to the world outside of "me."

When I read through her core post, I thought to myself: "I don't want to be the same person after I do this guest post with her." Without telling me (or you) what part should or needs to change or adjust, don't resist it. It's your journey, you take the steps.

There were a few things that hit me while editing her story. We have a lot of similarities related to our experience as adopted people. We have some strange ways of relating to people based on our most foundational abandonment. But we also have a fierce sense of loyalty and willingness to change to solidify relationships.

That willingness is something that you won't readily find in non-adopted people. And if you do find it, don't let it go. It's a precious character trait to have in yourself and in your loved one. It's the thing that will take a relationship the distance it needs to go.

She and I both grew up only children. Not having siblings painted the way we learned to associate with other people. Additionally, our feeling of estrangement (distance) with our adoptive family were shared. For her, her "at odds" feeling was resolved, and unfortunately, mine is still ongoing. At this point, and Catt would agree, it is in God's hands.

I was struck by her willingness to bare her bad and ugly side. Perhaps it is because she feels so remade in the "image of God" that who she was does not taint who she is today. That is a really healthy relationship to have with your past.

For me, I don't like to share the ugly of my life. I am at peace with it, but I'm not at the point where I feel like if I speak about it, it will touch people's lives. In that sense, I feel quite ordinary. I have some lesser (from my P.O.V.) issues that I need to work through and perhaps that will be the juncture when I feel led to bare more of my life.

I do feel like I have great purpose in life. I feel like the great things I have done and can do is through God's provision of skills and intuition. I feel like I have a book waiting to be written about my life. I feel that I have an impact on humanity that has yet to take force. I know that this life is more than "about me." 

GUEST SERIES: Catt Peace 2 of 2

Graphic: According2Meredith.blogspot.com, words of Catt Peace

Continued from... "

You have to be a Christian to have 

your prayers answered. Right?

 

How Adoptees Find God

The following are her words with my editing, formatting, brackets and headers:

I Dream of...
Rationally thinking, all these conversations with the two of them must have been on my mind, as one night I had a dream. In my dream, I met the person: the person I had always been needing and looking for. I spent what felt like an eternity with him [feeling] so happy and peaceful. We talked, laughed, and joked.  At the end of my dream, I said "I don't know your name", and this vision of perfection smiled at me with the most beautiful smile and said "I know, I'm Jesus".  I woke up feeling amazing.

Magic of the Subjective Experience
[Although it] sounds corny and weird; it happened. When I told my colleagues, one was amazed and the other was jealous. It was still several months, maybe even a year, before I let this gnawing feeling on the inside get the better of me. I asked the Christian colleague ([that] I didn't get on so well with) when the next 'public' (less full on and less dramatic) service was as I felt I needed my 'yearly dose of religious.' Having grown up always attending Christmas and Easter services at the Catholic Church of England and Evangelical-type establishments, [I could at least do "that."]

Slaughter-er to slaughtered?
My colleague was a bit taken aback. My co-workers, [not unlike other believers,] spent so much time patiently inviting colleagues to church only to be scoffed at behind their backs.  Still, every Christian knows they are setting themselves up for slaughter whether publicly or privately with non-believers [when they broach the subject of religion]. 

Receiving blessing with moral support
I persuaded my best friend at the workplace to join me (strength in numbers) for a service my colleague had forgotten to invite me to. (He says he will never forget that, the one time he gave up asking was the one time I asked instead.) [At the part of the service] when a man was asking if anyone needed prayer, I nudged my diabetic atheist friend to go up. {Mental monologue as follows: I didn't need prayer. I had some form of belief in a higher power having studied various religions only to conclude that no-one had it quite right. "That would do me just fine. Thank you."} But my friend would only go if I did. [So I went because] I felt he needed it.

Challenging the Power of Laying Hands
[Now, we are both in front of the preacher.] In heels, I towered over the man who stood in front of me and asked what I wanted prayer for. I quite cheekily said, "Anything He wants to give me." As this preacher man put his hand on my head, it felt like a battle of wills as to who was going to win. It felt like he was pushing me over 'in the Spirit' (I had done this religious nonsense before) against my heels holding me upright. I won. Ha, take that you religious weirdo.

Church for a healthy social environment
In the time that followed, I started attending Church as something to do. I had made the decision that my long-term boyfriend (the angel who had set me straight again) and I needed to move forward in our relationship. We were living in a tiny dingy little annexe with mould growing on the walls and not enough sunlight.  [It was time for a relationship upgrade.]

I went to Church to meet people in the local area. I went to Church [only] for something to do on a Sunday. On a particular Sunday, I had already decided that I needed to find somewhere new to live and made a precise list of what I wanted in a home. After looking for a week or two all over the internet [of my own power] to no avail, I raised my thoughts heavenward. I said "It's me again. Help us out and I'll make this a regular thing, yeah?" 

Be careful what you pray for... It might come true
[Precisely] that afternoon, I found my dream home in a previously undiscovered corner of the internet. My list was ticked off. On my solo and very modest wages, I would be taking a massive financial risk. My parents promised me assistance and encouraged me. They, and many others by this point, weren't too fond of my long-term boyfriend anyway. [Furthermore, they thought this move would likely move him out of my life.]

Fast forward a few months, my boyfriend and I had none of the same interests and none of the same friends. I decided I needed to learn how to live my own life and make myself happy without him. [Eventually,] we spent a lot of time apart. You can only ever change you, not other people. 

Christian Camp Take Two
I was begrudgingly persuaded by some of my new 'friends' in the Church to attend a Christian camp. [It didn't take much effort as,] I had done it before. I could deal with a week of religious nutters as I needed a holiday, [I sounded off in my head]. They were planning on talking about what the Church was doing in society [and] mobilising 'God's Army.' I thought I'd go along to learn what I could about me. [I planned on] separating the message about God from the general theme of being a good person. "That’s basically what Christianity is, right?"

All Signs looking up
Just as we left the home of the now friends', previously [strange] colleagues, (all packed up [as if we are heading] to a week in the sun), I stopped my car.  I said, "Something special is going to happen. [I noticed all the signs that were jumping out at me.] It's exactly ten years since I last went to a camp just like this and ten years since my parents got our old dog." (My parents were getting a puppy that weekend.) [Those signs gave me] a weird feeling of anticipation.

I was and still am well aware of the politics within any organised group, including and especially churches, so I linked arms with a new friend. We distanced ourselves [physically] from the rest of the Church. Even to the point that on the first night, we sat seperate from each other, and seperate from anyone else we knew. 

Gripping the Heart of the Adopted 

GUEST SERIES: Catt Peace 1 of 2

Introducing a Friend & Kindred Spirit....

This is not the first time I've correspondence worked with Ms. Peace. I met her while participating in the same support group for adoptive families. She is real to the core and can unabashedly talk about herself knowing she is a redeemed and priceless soul.

Now for the Word-Smithing of

Graphic Credit: According2Meredith.blogspot.com, words of Catt Peace

The following are her words with my editing, formatting, brackets and headers:

You have to be a Christian to have 

your prayers answered. Right?

A bit of luck

When I was a young teen, maybe even preteen I attended a Christian camp for a holiday. Having been loosely involved in Church activities (as a clause in my mid childhood adoption from an Evangelical Christian family to an Atheist one), I didn't feel unease at being enveloped in the week-long camp. I had been encouraged to begin attending a lunch-time prayer group at my Catholic school to make friends, and this lead to an unexpected opening to the camp as a friends sister had paid up her holiday and was taken violently ill quite suddenly.

Camp
I went along to the camp, and the girls I roped in with weren't particularly overjoyed at having me hanging around. I was anxious, socially awkward, clingy, bizarre. I have always been good at spending time alone though, or making one particular intense 'special friend' for any needed amount of time. Almost like a hunter, pick off the weakest or friendliest in a group and claim them for my own.

Back in History
My history at this point was as follows, the first few years of my life were spent living with my alcoholic biological mother, who was incapable of looking after me and moved me around a lot. She had a lot of boyfriends. My biological father would follow us and rage about her behaviour. She was in and out of hospital, like I was in and out of foster homes. I was adopted aged 7 after a few years in a more stable environment.  I moved to a suburban housewife's paradise, a world away from the poverty and trauma I had experienced with my bio-Mum. 

Reflection: "Motherless by Choice"

SOURCE

This woman, student and author, has had a pretty hard lot in life. Her article that I linked to under "source" is raw and moving. I felt her conflicting emotions and tug of loyalty between herself and her mother. I felt drawn to reflect on her story as it is reminiscent of mine. I am also "motherless by choice," but I'm also family-less, and I've been involuntarily motherless through "virtue" of adoption. As I recently wrote an article about my life living with adoption, I came at a new understanding of my experience in life. Please scroll through the infographics and my accompanying words.

(I have forgiven my parents and myself for the condition of our relationship. They did the best they could with the tools & experiences they had.)

Katie Naums Toxic Relationship | Create Infographics

Can you relate? I can...

More than you Bargained For

When you deal with me, 

you deal with my Parent's 

influence on me

According2Meredith.blogspot.com

I listened to the Focus on the Family Broadcast (Daily Edition 05/29/14) by pastor Louie Giglio talking about generational impressions and influences. He proposed that we have to look into our past and deal with it so we don't bring it into the present and future.

I've mentioned this theme of family legacies, for bad or for good, before in different ways. But, after listening to pastor Giglio, I realized that I'm screwed. I mean, my family doesn't have a chance, but for the Grace of God [or whatever source you have].

I almost listened

A Glimpse into My studies

Click on the <  to remove the sidebar



Despite my errors in English, I found this interview paper to be a great edifying experience for me as a student and as an adopted person. I wrote it in four hours. My fingers flew over the keys as if I was playing an opus on my long neglected piano. [ I have a story about the piano... for a future post! ] I felt like I could see clearly how my career endeavor intertwines with my own adoption experience. I could finally make sense of why I feel okay. I'm not a tattered mess from my life, although I'd have plenty excuses to fall back on.

I almost listened...

The Heart "Out of Order"

"Emotional Heart Transplant" Nancy Thomas

Do you know who Nancy Thomas?

I watched the interview I linked to above a few weeks ago and I really resonated with the term she used as an "emotional heart transplant." For some people, this is in fact what they need- no fault of their own. Some people have been taught that the world is such a dangerous and painful place that they turn their hearts off. My heart breaks for theirs as God would call us to have a heart for in our fellow man. 

At first this concept sounds unthinkable, but it is something of a social deficit that is on the rise. I don't want to go backwards and point fingers; all I know is that we, the collective, need to work together to nip it in the bud. We need to change minds and hearts with an "emotional heart transplant" as Nancy Thomas suggests.

How do we do that? Isn't that abstract? Do I need to be trained?

Dear Father (In Memoriam)

December 8, 1984 - April 18, 2013

Hi Dad,

This is the picture from the day we met at JFK Airport. You, against gentle advisement, forgot to kneel down so as to not scare me with your height. I proceeded to cry at your sheer size and strangeness. You were larger than life. At  that moment, I put my life in your hands. I decided that you were the face of God. And that wasn't fair. You had many great qualities but I had inappropriately put too much pressure on you to be perfect. It wasn't your responsibility to make my pain from my childhood trauma go away. I silently begged you to be delicate with me because my life had already been so hard for just a 4.5 year old girl.

In that span, between our meeting and your Earthly departure, we shared many moments. There were also many misunderstandings and things left unsaid. Too much time had passed between us. I'm glad I didn't reunite with you because, like with my bio family, there is no patch for missed time. Nothing would make things right without the intervention of God. So perhaps we will finish this business in Heaven together.

May 19, 2013 5:47am

Nearly a month after you passed out of this life, my son Gabriel entered it. We don't have a picture like this together. You didn't know me in my first moments. Sadly, I don't think my biological father did either. This is one huge reminder that you weren't supposed to wave a wand to make things better. In some respects, you were just supposed to be there with me while the earth traveled around the sun. Someone had to hold my chronological age minus 4.5 years worth of memories- to tell me who I am this side of Heaven. Someone, some man on this earth was supposed to be able to account for who I am. And to your best ability- you did just that.

Here is my husband holding your grandson. It's not his responsibility to fix my scars either. He has loved me in my most unlovely moments and has sweetened the precious moment of Gabriel's birth (on my own birthday no less) that we will share to eternity. I am in good hands between Robert and the Lord Above. I regret that you didn't get to meet them, Dad. I look forward to Heavenly introductions.

I have learned how different we are. You and I both had baggage. But your baggage was hard to bear because you locked it up inside of you. Whereas, I am continually learning how to free myself of my own load. Knowing how much harder pain is to bear alone and by keeping it in, I have so much tenderness toward you. I see you more as a suffering person than my parent/teacher. I wish you had a less tormented life.

All of this sadness begs me to think that my adoption has not disadvantaged me but made me more resilient to life's upheavals. I work hard to preserve our good memories, Dad. You had enough to endure, I'll do my best to tell people about you in the most attractive light. I never wanted to add to your pain. At least that pain has evaporated into eternal forgetfulness and unending nirvana.

Above all else Dad- rest in peace.

Love,
Your Daughter

Dear Sister...

(DSi front facing camera is soooo bad!)

[This sort of photo analyzing program is of interest to me as an adopted person. I think that most adopted adults are very curious to see how similar their kids will look like themselves since they usually don't share a resemblance with their adoptive families. Actually, I had a different program online having my daughter look 51% like me so this DSi app is confusing to me.

When I look at this I also wonder about my long lost sister out there who was also given up for adoption. Does she look 25% like me too? Would I know her if I passed her by on a street? Would our resemblance be so striking? I can only imagine for the time being. Does she even know about Eun Kyung (me), who was born the fourth month of the lunar year and the sixth day afterward?]

 ********************************************************************

Dear Sister,

It is Sibling Day 2014 and I cannot have a picture with you in it. I didn't know you existed until 7 years ago. Or at least, the expanse of time lead me to forget about you-- about us. Before I never felt a loss because I didn't remember or know about you. But now, I sit here on Sibling Day and wonder and wish we could know one another.

I don't know if you know or remember me either. Is it a secret that's locked in the mouths of our aunts and uncles? Am I on your orphan records? You did not appear on mine. Such a shame that I must make such flailing assumptions about what happened between us besides miles and time. But I remember so very clearly that as a child I hated being the only child. I was so lonely... left to my journal to sort things out. Imagine if I had you there to walk through that with me. My chest swells with a big sigh.

I feel regretful that I am not searching for you actively. I guess I have little faith in the haystack of info that is available to me. I want you to know that you have family (me) out there. You have a niece and nephews in the USA. I know your (oh my gosh, OUR!) birth mother and aunts. [I really never ever had to say "our" in reference to parents- ever.] I wonder who your new parents are. We should go to Korea together some day to reunite with the rest of the family.

How is your life? Are you happy? Find me.

Love,
Your Sister Meredith Y.







*************************************************************


It's surreal to even imagine that I have a close link to someone out there that I do not know or see. Please, God, if it is your will-- please bring us back together. Please let us put the puzzle pieces of our family back together. More pieces are good, just no more missing ones. Okay?

Many blessings to you and your siblings. Would you comment below to help me imagine what it's like to know my sister? How would life be for me... through your life as a sibling? =) I appreciate the insight!

#nationalsiblingday2014 #longlostsister #reunitesisters #treasureyoursiblings

The day I realized that...

he really does love me more...

This was shortly after we met...

but it almost seems as if he has always had a special place for me in his heart.

 

You see... If anyone can deem herself less loveable... it's me. {At least that has been my unspoken attitude ever since I was abandoned as a preschooler.} I felt so entitled to holding on to this idea that no one would ever love me again. It was hard for my mind to stretch in that manner. 

 

So now... I have a husband that I can't begin to deserve tell me that he loves me more! For a long time I just took it as a lie. I was almost insulted that he would challenge my mental construct (lie is the better word). After all, I did X, Y, and Z AND there is less of me that was loveable... validating how impossible it would be to love me more. Despite the fact that I don't define myself as an "adoptee", the feeling of being damaged is hard to shake off.

[Getting personal here] An ongoing problem between us was that we felt so let down when the other person complained or whined. It was a major rut. To be honest, I will take 99% of the blame for that. It started with my discomfort with his discontent about pretty much everything. Being adopted, I had a subconscious fear that unhappiness and trials would break my present relationships just like it did with my mother and father. It was a valid fear, but invalid application of such fear.

I used to say to him "Why do you feel X about Y?" And he'd say "Why can't I just feel the way I feel?" We were in this cycle of just getting frantic over everything and nothing.  Then I stopped "telling him how to feel." Yet it still didn't feel secure to me. He wasn't happy with "something" and I was assumed that it was "me." [I have a feeling that my adopted peeps know what I'm talking about.]

He admitted to me a while ago that when we first met that he was very selfish and stubborn, but that he wanted to be with me enough to go the extra mile (required lengths) to make our relationship work. It wasn't until recently that I felt strong enough to be okay with an "off" day and not feel like my life was going to end as I knew it. I even told him that he hurt my feelings. Do you know how long it's been since I've said that?!!! The last time I ever revealed in a conversation that my feelings were hurt was with my adoptive mother and she told me that I was too sensitive. So- I stopped thinking that ANYONE would care. (So stupid and yet, as a kid, it's a believable reaction)

Yesterday- my husband graciously supported me when I was having an "off" day. When I brought it up today, he said "Don't be sorry about yesterday- I need to be there for you when you feel down or anxious." And instantly, I felt something completely new. I felt myself becoming convinced of my present security and love.

So, now- I really do get it. He really does love me more... than anyone in this world. We are really winning this war against relationships lately. To my Christian heart, it just gives me proof that God blesses our marriage and wants us to have a safe and loving relationship as sinners in such a fallen world. But I'm starting to think that if our world was so grand, we'd take each other for granted. It's through our trials that have revealed the strength of our relationship.

So as of today (4/5/14), I realized that he really does love me more. <3

What Does an Adopted Person Look Like?

Do I look adopted?

I hope you're shaking your head. I've even recently gotten back in touch with a person from my hometown who is Caucasian and adopted by a Caucasian couple. I also know a Korean adopted woman who has a Korean mother who adopted her and an African American father. My own biological mother domestically adopted a son. My son in the picture with me is my virtually adopted son. He has a mother, but she is missing in action. I am the only female guardian in his every day life.

And you know what? It doesn't feel any different, at least to me, than any other family I've had or even in comparison to my biological daughter and son. They equally drive me nuts. (tongue in cheek). They get the same imperfect parent- they have equal opportunity to my failures. (weak laugh) But they also get my unique flair to this important role called parenting.

Being adopted is complex BECAUSE it's hard to fathom, for one, and because it's hard to recognize without comparison. Alone, no one could tell that I was abandoned and adopted. But, stand me next to my Caucasian family, and you could see "the one that doesn't belong." You know, that one remedial test for budding students? Except, I do belong- that's what the adoption papers say.

It is so hard to shift so fluidly from being me without the family and being adopted when I'm with the family. I can only imagine how complicated my sons feel around me. But it's that complication that I am so familiar with. If they feel that way, I chalk it up to the fact that it's pretty darn normal... for an adopted person.

It's also hard to be adopted, because usually when people find out- they shift their behavior towards you. Many times they will act sad for you; but what if you're not sad? Or they'll act awkward; but what if you have come to terms with how awkward it can be with parents that were found for you like couples on Match.com?

The tricky part of being adopted is that we only look "that way" when we share it with others. But I just want to assure you, readers- I don't "see" myself as adopted. I see myself as a person who would have had any other issue in life except that it just happens to be adoption/abandonment for me. I have as much or potential as the next person. I can weather life's storms hopefully better than some people who weren't adopted. I am who I am today not because of what happened to me but because of what I made happen in my life, with God helping me.

I wish you all the level of self love and contentment as I have. This life is so fleeting. I have my eyes set on eternity in Heaven. Hopefully, I'll see you there.

Here is my growing playlist offering adoption support to you all, 

parents and children:

What is it like to be an adult and mother who was adopted?

Hello adoptive family and professionals. Let me explain in stages to highlight that there are SHIFTS in understanding for the continually growing adopted person (and hopefully non-adopted people) such as myself. Of course I cannot speak for all adopted children, but I can give you proof that they will see the light.

As an adopted child, I was tripped up with the confusion of why my parents weren't a part of my personal healing. I had expectations of them that were unfounded and it is quite possible that they were unable to meet them even if they tried. I took the disappointments more personally. Every disappointment triggered a mental state of lack of confidence and absent self worth. In a sense, I was expecting things of external sources when I was supposed to be the source.

As an adopted adult, before marriage and becoming a mother, I was in my blaming stage. I was done being hurt on an ongoing basis and was, for the most part, blaming my adoptive parents for my misery. That blame, in some part, was misplaced. I should have reserved some space to point the finger at myself. I probably should have had brain space to be bitter toward my biological mother and family. But for some reason, I never was. It was easy to apply faulty attribution onto my adoptive parents assuming that they were "awful" to me because I wasn't really their child and "naturally" my bio mother would have been better. It's difficult to explain, but I never actively compared my adopted and bio parents because I had no recollection of my bio parents to make that comparisons. I was going off assumptions- but could you blame me?

Then when I married the first time at age 24, I came to a crossroads in my life. I knew motherhood was on the horizon and that I'd be forced to adjust my understanding of my involvement (or lack thereof) in both my adopted and bio families. When I became pregnant for the first time, I was triggered into a frenzy. I was afraid I would be a horrible mother because I had no secure relationship with my adopted mother. I didn't know what a healthy, enriching relationship was made of or looked like. One of my proudest moments (no- not really), was crying to my cat "How could I be a mother to a girl?!"

At a point of my life where I felt much loss from my adoptive and bio families, suddenly Jasmin filled the void, at least as much as she ever was supposed to. The rest of the void was meant to be filled by Almighty God. I relished getting to know my baby. I took pictures like no-one's business because I had none of my own baby stages. I was trying to make up for that loss and it pretty much worked for me. Every year I tried to envision who I was through my daughter. As if she could show me who I was when in fact I was the one who lived it- not her.

When she was about 2 years old, I was finally able to reunite with my family in Korea. I was hit with so much emotion, that I seemed emotionless for the first 10 minutes. Then the tears feel as if I was making up for lost time. I was no longer crying for my mother, I was crying because I was in her arms. The best thing I ever did for my healing journey was deciding to share my American adoption story in the raw form- no sugar coating. I told her what I silently repeated for years- that I would have chosen poverty just to live with her. Without going overboard, I knew I wasn't supposed to "make her feel better."

We spent time in ways that only make sense when you've been reunited after 24 years. She brushed my hair. She told me I used to sing as a child. She told me I had "million dollar eyes." We slept in the same bed, in Korean style (the norm). She cooked for me. She held my hand most of the time we were together. It was three days worth of editing the way I look at my life. It was a priceless gift. I was heartbroken to return to the states. But there held my only daughter... I had no other choice. I would not abandon my own child after what I experienced.

What I didn't expect to think about during the reunion was how much was missing between me and my biological mother. She didn't know what I preferred; what I enjoyed; what I wore to prom. Only my adopted mother knew those things. My adopted life contained my identity, not my country of origin. Korea holds my family but not the essence of who I am. I left having even more appreciation and empathy for my adoptive parents. I began to see the pain my parents experienced from raising me and before me. I wasn't able to recognize that while I was engrossed in part-time misery.

I guess by the natural pace of life, by the time she was 4.5 years old (when I was adopted), I stopped looking to her to assuage the mystery of my first years of life. About that time, I was also able to bring Jasmin with me back to Korea. Jasmin never met my adopted mother, but fortune gave me the opportunity to introduce her to my Korean family and to where I came from. It was healing to see my Korean mother love on Jasmin. I saw similarities between the three generations of females. It seemed to be enough for me.

Shortly after we came back to the states, I met my husband.  He already had two sons by his first wife. She was leery about me at first, but then she gave me the nod of approval. Before I realized what was happening, she bowed out of the boys' lives. I was put in the position to be their only female guardian for the time being. I never signed up to be their only "mother", I was envisioning a team effort. Ironically enough, I vowed that I'd never adopt; but that is essentially what has happened. I've adopted the boys in my heart and even when their mother steps back into their life, I will consider them to be my sons as well.

So now that I'm an "adoptive" mother by heart, I see my adoption in a different light. I can appreciate what my adoptive parents were up against with me. I can also use my experiential knowledge to help guide me to be a worthy parent to the boys. Now I look back and see how much of this metamorphosis was out of my power; that it was all meant to be. I love my family. Everything that I've gone through HAS (without a doubt) been for a purpose. And for that knowledge and confidence, I am so thankful and blessed.

So I share this with you, adoptive or prospective parents, so that you can be encouraged that today, as good or bad as it is, will not forecast the rest of your life. There are many twists and turns that will come with being parent that will spin your life into an amazing tapestry.  Don't forget to step back and to the side once in a while to see those small periods of growth. You are doing a great work through and with these children.

Video of my Reunion Story

Many blessings to you~

Response to "Baby Moved to Tears"

Baby moved to tears by mom singing 

Photo Credit: marvelouswallpapers.com

I had to watch it. It was viral... trending. Everybody seemed to be doing it. But- what went through my mind was hopefully a little different. In my mind, my thoughts were pulled toward acknowledging that babies can indeed understand emotion beyond just crying for their needs. Would it be a stretch to say that these babies have come "online" with human compassion?

Too much is hurled at us about bad things: school shootings, cheating, devastation and fraud. There is a subset of children/people who had such traumatic childhoods that they do not have this emotional connection or intuition. There are children who have what was known as Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) that have splintered social reasoning- many times due to things totally out of their control.

One such RAD survivor is Jessie Hogsett. He wrote a book Detached, a personal memoir about how he has evolved past his childhood trauma to be a light to many people's lives. He also is a husband and father who is very much attached to his family. He started a foundation called "P.A.T.C.H.E.S." that provides support and resources to families who are rehabilitating RAD children and building solid families.

For me, he symbolizes hope in my eyes for children, many foster and adopted, to overcome institutionalization and abuse. I have had a close affiliation with adopted children/adults throughout my life. I have heard of RAD in these kids before I ever knew about the diagnosis. I've heard of children being so beaten down that I honestly didn't know how they could keep themselves "together."

I knew one adopted guy who's adoptive mother told him he should just die. One day, she found him outside on their lawn and he was just laying there. She spit through her words, "Why are you just laying there?" And he replied, "You told me I should die, so I'm laying here." I still choke back tears when I think back on this demoralizing and heartbreaking real life story. Another girl ran away from abusive parents in Canada. She told me many unbelievable things that I can barely remember 13 years later. But her brokenness and fear has never left my mind.

On the bright side, Izidor Ruckel, a Romanian adoptee, who had a similar social handicap and he was recently in the news for making a name for himself. He has made a documentary that was featured on the Washington Post  on January 30, 2014: A Lost Boy Found His Calling. Laura Mathews was also in "the system". I personally met her through the Easter Seals. She is now a lawyer who has a special interest in caretakers of special needs children. She makes sure that all of their legal and financial ducks are in a row for the security into the future.

I share this video to bring us back to our humanity. Let's not take things for granted. We are so blessed to have each other in our lives. We are installed with oxytocin, the hormone of love and attachment. Our brains are wired to develop BASED on nurturing, loving, and ministering to the innocent children and babies who are brought into this very much harsh world. Even though many children go through these horrors, people like Jessie Hogsett, Izidor Ruckel and Laura Mathews can come out victorious and influential in their communities.

[I pray that God keep our hearts tender toward each other. I pray that our hearts be moved to tears for the horrors of this world. I pray for all of the disadvantaged children to grow up into more lawyers, authors and documentary makers. God is not done with us, even the ones who have lost touch with their God-designed humanity. I pray that we all hug each other longer and more often. I pray all of this in HIS Perfectly Loving Name, Amen.]

It's not enough to say your anti-abortion...

Photo Credit: RedPillReport.files.wordpress.com

For me, I find it hard to swallow that people could say such sweeping things as they are against abortion. I think they forget to consider the other parts of this controversial "argument." First of all, how can we separate abortion from murder? If we are against abortion-- are we FOR adoption... FOR single mothers to raise their children... for people who are unprepared to be parents to parent their unexpected bundle of upheaval?

If you are anti-abortion, are you FOR people passing along the buck and giving the responsibility over to a complete stranger? If you are anti-abortion, are you willing to help charities or the single unwed mothers in your communities? Are you going to walk the big talk? Would you put your money where your mouth is? (insert your own cliche')

Let's face it, there are plenty of people out there who have no parenting sensibilities. I'm sure you've met a few. So do you say "Hey! So glad you didn't have an abortion so you can validate being a bad parent?" Of course not. But the truth is, there are many people out there who don't do parenting justice. That's not even speaking of the parents who walk out of their kids' lives.

All of that to say, it's not even our place to project such attitudes towards other people's lives. The proof is in the pudding. If I had my influence on regulating parenthood I would target the fertility of a society. I would make potential parents (people of child bearing age) get a parenting license to screen their frame of mind and compatibility with all the demands of parenting. With regulated fertility, people might not take for granted that they have been so blessed by their children. It took me a long time to conceive-- and I don't take it for granted (though it would be easy to fall into that trap).

But let's get real. I'm never going to have that sort of influence and I was exaggerating a bit. I just wanted to bring to light that  people make their choices and live with the consequences of THEIR choices, good or bad. They don't need society giving them shoulds and shouldn'ts if society doesn't take a concerted interest (willingness to help) in those "shoulds and shouldn'ts." Just like the recent infographic circulated by pro same-sex marriage activists saying that same sex marriage hasn't harmed your (our) opposite sex marriage. The only people that an abortion harms are the pregnant woman, her unborn child and the "sperm donor" to put it crassly.

We all have our skeletons because we are miserable failures at resisting our sin nature. To judge each other and rate our sins is beside the point. We are all fallen and fallible creatures. My mistakes are not yours and you have your own lot of mistakes. At the end of the day, it's between the Creator (God in my eyes), mother, father and unborn child. We need to do less demonizing and more ministering to each other... even to the people who have decided not to parent at a certain juncture of their life.

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I pray that people extend grace and mental charity to each other. I pray that God breaks our heart for what breaks his... and for the people we so easily judge. Let's be redeemers and bringers of Light. It is never too late to repent of our sinful ways. I also pray that we would have loved ones be loving enough to not enable our sinful ways. Sinning hurts us more than the social discomfort of accountability. Most importantly, I pray that we grow a deep relationship with God (as you understand him) so that we may every day become a better version of ourselves through his strength and example.

It's a woman thing...

 Photo Credit: sabbathrestmagazine.com

The father wound sets us up for relational handicaps, but the "mother wound" cripples our sense of self and well-being. I read the article I linked in the opening sentence "Why it’s Crucial for Women to Heal the Mother Wound" by Bethany Webster. This sort of article is so very shaking and upsetting to me because I have not one but TWO mothers: one who lives a parallel life in Korea and an adoptive mother who has been estranged from me for many years. Add on to that significance of the fact that I am a mother to a daughter.

It's true. I find myself feeling a sense of shame every time I admit to my daughter with emotion in my voice that I will never be perfect... that I have feelings too. I feel the weight of every word I say and don't say. I know how much potential I have to emotionally handicap my daughter. There's never a moment that I feel the quality of the influence I have on her. 

The truth for me is that I cannot heal my mother wound, at least not without some dialogue. Spiritually, I do my best to forgive and to bless what I cannot resolve with my mothers. I have two obligations and measures worth of baggage, loyalty and respect. But I've stopped handing them the power over my feeling of well-being. They do not determine how I feel about myself. I don't make excuses for them. I name the way they damaged me. I didn't make a silent vow that I couldn't be okay until everything was copacetic with my mothers. I knew better than to put such an impossible stipulation on my health.

When I see anything weak or unsightly in my daughter, I immediately take stock through my mental file cabinet of my mistakes with her and try to assign my mistakes to her faults. By God's grace, not all of her imperfects fall on my shoulders- but most do. It's just the reality of the situation. We are just too close to each other for her not to absorb some of me that I wish could just keep to my self. 

I guess my situation is a hybrid to the blended family situations of today. Fifty percent of families in America today are blended families. That means, excluding deceased parents, each child potentially has two mothers. I do my best to train my daughter to respect her stepmother and to give her grace. I do my best to help her give her stepmother the benefit of the doubt. I try to impart on her that it is ok to see us make mistakes and that they are ours to shoulder- not hers. 

But that's assuming that an eight year old understands what I speak of and how she might go about making herself impervious the free radicals I've shared with her. The one thing I really really truly didn't want to pass on. I know I'm not perfect. I remember that one time I sat in the hallway pregnant and crying to my black cat "How can I be a mother to a girl?" It was as if I knew she was going to be damaged by me even before she was part of this world. 

It's no mistake that my disastrous relationships with my mothers have set the stage for me to shy away from making female friends. But according to the article, Bethany suggests that friendships where women can support each other and let each other vent and mourn our wounds are the best safeguards against passing on the mothering uglies to our daughters. What is a Meredith to do?

For now, I cry out to God. He aches to fill in the void... as many as I have. But he will only step in if I invite him and invoke his relationship with me. He can cover the sins of my mothers and of my own. He can be that protection, the anti-oxidant that protects my daughter from my free radicals. There is no option to be apart because abandonment is another type of pain. We- are in a conundrum of not wanting to damage and yet not wanting to abandon our children. Lord help us.

So- if you didn't already feel down- I can only imagine you're already there by this sentence. I'm sorry for that. But let me pray over you that God would bless your relationship with your mothers and your daughters. I ask that God supply us with an extra helping of peace, humility, self love and grace so that we may give the surplus to our own children.  God made mothers not out of dust but out of flesh so they could feel genuinely and so we could be set apart from the rest of creation. Let us live up to the expectation that we be the crown of his creation. He wills it so. Passing on God's love to you~ Amen.